Yes our boys have reached that age. It is now uncool for Mom and Dad to say “I love you” in a public setting. They might be shunned at school if one of their friends were to hear us express our love for them. Now as they get out the car for baseball, school, or a sleep over they no longer give me a hug from the back seat and say those three words. I’m lucky if I get a “Bye dad” or the male head nod (guys you know what I’m talking about.) They slam the car door, no longer looking back at me as I watch them disappear.

This kind of stung at first, knowing they were reaching that stage where their parents are seen as “uncool,” listen to weird music, hugs are unwanted and Kisses from mom are nearly toxic while in public.

After a little thought I came up with an idea, a code that I could say to them that would express my love for them while maintaining their sense of parental separation. Only they would know what I meant, none of their friends would get it. “You smell!” I yelled as they left they car. They only turned for a moment shook their head and smiled. “It means I love you,” and now I can yell it as loud as I want to and only they understand. “You smell too dad.” they laugh back, and I smile. I win this round of the war of coolness.

Obviously, I wasn’t there for the story of my birth. So, these are the events that happened as I remember people telling me. As it is my birthday, I thought I would share.

Around 8pm pacific time on Wednesday December 6th 1978, my sister, who was 4 1/2 at the time, sat down to watch Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer’s special presentation on ABC.

My very pregnant mother zoomed around the house cleaning up after dinner, not realizing she was nesting. I know my father was home, but I’ve never really heard what he was doing before all heck broke loose.

About twenty minutes into my sister’s TV special, my mother felt that she had to use the restroom, as she had drank quite a lot of tea that afternoon. While in there, she had realized that she did not in fact have to use the restroom, but her soon to-be-son’s head had already crowned. She had already started active labor and had no idea. (My mother was blessed with quick labors)

During the annual storytelling of my birth, this is when my father usually added some joke about always knowing I was a turd. *shakes head*

My father quickly called the neighbors, good friends to our family, to come get my sister and take her over to their house while he tried to get my mother to relax and by all means, please, wait for the ambulance.

I just didn’t want to wait. I guess I’ve been impatient from the start. Sorry, Dad. So, at 8:25 pm, my father delivered me into this world. (Insert another joke about being dropped on my head and that explaining my weirdness.) Shortly after that the ambulance arrived, the two medics looked around, relieved and said “Well this is an easy one.” And whisked us all off to the hospital.

To this day, my sister will never forgive me for interrupting Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer’s Christmas Special.

The boys have been great big brothers to Keira. When they are with here, she is always laughing, playing, and just having a good time. They work on ABC’s, colors, numbers, and Anthony even has her able to say the first four numbers of pi. (Yes, he is a super nerd who has memorized the first 19 numbers in pi.)

Boys being boys though, they have also taught her a few things not as innocent.

1. The Zombie says…

While the kids and I were driving to the book store the other night, they were sitting in the back entertaining Keira by going over animal sounds. You know the old “What does the cow say” and baby says “MOOOOO!” They worked through the cows, ducks, and cats before Anthony bust out with “What does the Zombie say??” Without pause, Keira says “BRRRAAIIINS.” I tried not to laugh, really! But what’s funnier than zombie babies?

2. Bellies are fun!

We have been working with Keira on body parts. “Keira find your nose” moving on to eyes, ears, head, etc… This leads to Keira finding her belly to which she lifts her shirt and smacks her belly. The boys find this immensely funny. They took it one step further and now ask “Find Daddy’s belly” to which she will come running up to me, lift my shirt and smack my belly. If you are ever at our house and she lifts your shirt to smack your belly, I apologize ahead of time.

3. Peek a boo kicked up a notch

Since day one of living with the boys, I’ve hidden around corners and jumped out and scared them. They have taken on this own trait to scare each other. Now they have a weapon… You guessed it – they have taught Keira to hide around corners and wait until you are just next to it to jump out and say “Boo!” Leading, of course, to them rolling on the floor with laughter.

I sure hope 3 ½ years from now, when Keira enters kindergarten, that the teachers are ready for this little zombie-loving, belly-smacking, peek-a-boo girl.